


Starting Over

by Zafra



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M, Modern AU, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-03
Updated: 2010-06-03
Packaged: 2017-10-13 09:57:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/135989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zafra/pseuds/Zafra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the KinkMe!Merlin Prompt - Arthur and Merlin have been in a secret relationship for a couple of years. Merlin watches their friends share kisses and hold hands, while he has to ignore Arthur by his side. One day after arguing with Arthur, he shouts that Arthur is gay in front of their friends, and Arthur in a moment of rage punches him...<br/>bonus point for happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starting Over

The sun is shining high in the sky, warming the air of the spring afternoon and around him, everyone’s mood reflects it. Merlin sits in his chair outside the little café they practically live at, picking at his croissant and letting the conversation drift over him. Lancelot is making Gwen laugh uproariously and Merlin glances to his right at Arthur; sitting back, tipping the chair onto two legs grinning like a loon. He’s sure if he were paying attention to the actual conversation he would be smiling and laughing, too. But he’s not. It’s spring, again. He hates spring.

Spring is all about “renewal” and bunnies and love. He flakes off another bit of his croissant and cracks a smile to keep everyone from asking him what the matter is. Stealing another glance over at Arthur, he wishes he could tell them. He wishes he could say ‘well, you know I’m in this great relationship with a guy who’s really awesome – except when we’re out in public. Because heaven forbid anyone should find out he’s gay! So yeah, he’s sweet and kind, and he cares about me in his closeted, homophobic way. And it’s mostly good. Except when it’s not. Which lately, is most of the time.’

“Merlin?” That was Gwen’s soft voice breaking him out of his morbid train of thought. He looks up at her a bit guilty for once again disappearing into his own head. He’s sure if he looked over, Arthur would be frowning.

“Yeah?”

“We were thinking of going to the cinema later – want to come?” Her eyes were alight with hope and Merlin couldn’t well say no to her. “Sure.” He made sure to give her one of his big smiles, hoping to take his own foul mood away in the process. Arthur and Lance were talking amongst themselves, trying to figure out which movie to see. Merlin didn’t bother putting in his opinion. He knew they’d end-up with whatever latest action film those two wanted. If there was something else of interest, he knew Gwen would go with him some other time, just the two of them. He liked that about her. She never questioned him, even though he knew she still wanted to set him up with someone. She’d sent him on a few dates with guys she knew from her work, but of course it never went anywhere. Merlin was careful never to reveal to them the real reason why.

In fact, he was always careful. Careful not to say anything to Gwen or Lance, careful not to walk too close to Arthur – resisted every urge he had to reach out and grab his hand. He made do with casual-seeming contact like brushing something off his jacket, straightening a collar; it was never enough. When they would return to either one of their flats at the end of the evening, Arthur seemed to know it. He would be extra-affectionate, kissing and cuddling with Merlin on the couch watching the telly before they fell into bed. It used to be enough that he wanted to make up for what he couldn’t give Merlin in public. Lately, though, it was starting to wear on his nerves. It had been almost two years since their first tentative and spectacularly bad kiss in the lift of Arthur’s apartment building. That Arthur was so driven by lust he jumped Merlin in the lift before Merlin’s finger had even left the ‘4’ button was not, however, proper foreshadowing for what was to come.

Merlin figured Arthur just wasn’t the type of guy who was used to actually being affectionate with the men he’d been with. Quick-and-dirty in the bathroom of a club had been Arthur’s modus-operandi up until that point. This had bothered him a bit, to be honest. But Arthur had been faithful and overall, a really great boyfriend. Then the secretiveness started to rub and Merlin decided that they were not, in fact *actually dating*. Because that would require going on outings where people *knew* you were on a date. You held hands, danced together; you maybe even snogged your partner. For all the world new, they were just good mates. Merlin had even tried to suss-out if Gwen or Lance had figured it out by now. Casually asked *them* about anyone in Arthur’s life. Both looked at him with excitement, hoping he would know about a special girl. Being he was Arthur’s best mate, and all.

It was a waste, they said. He was good-looking, athletic and they knew he always had girls hanging-around him after footie practice on Saturdays. Merlin always brushed it off, saying Arthur was ‘waiting for the right girl,’ corny as it sounded. Sometimes he would say that he’d asked Arthur about a particular girl that had been seen around him often and he would just answer he didn’t want to date leeches. It was fun, in the beginning. Now, it was tedious and gave Merlin a headache. Before he realized, everyone was getting-up, leaving their money and heading to the cinema. Merlin wrapped his half-eaten croissant in his napkin and put it in his pocket for later.

“Something on your mind?” Arthur was leaning-in casually toward him, acting just as if he was a concerned friend. Merlin sighed, looking down and pretending to brush crumbs off his jacket.

“No. So, what are we seeing, anyway?” He hurried toward Gwen and Lance, placing himself on Gwen’s side and leaving Arthur no choice but to walk with him on purpose, or walk with Lance.

Lance. No surprise, then.

****************  
Arthur’s lips descended on his almost before the door to his flat was completely shut. Once their kissing slowed down to a more relaxed pace, Arthur broke the kiss to remove his jacket. “I’ve been waiting to do that all day”; he smiled at Merlin as he said it, and it set his teeth on edge.

“Really? Well, maybe next time you shouldn’t bother.” Merlin shrugged out of his own jacket, but just stood there holding it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Arthur turned to him, looking a bit confused, but also a bit scared and Merlin just snapped.

“You know bloody well what it’s supposed to mean, *mate*. This whole ‘Arthur can’t be a poofter’ was your idea, not mine. Just once it would be nice to, oh I don’t know, *acknowledge* my bleedin’ boyfriend in public?!”

Arthur sighed and grabbed Merlin’s hand, entwining their fingers. “Merlin, please, don’t be like this.” He tried to kiss Merlin again, but he turned his head and Arthur’s lips grazed his cheek. “I just… I *can’t*. I know you don’t understand and you’re already out. That’s great for you. I just don’t see it working well for me, yeah?”

“You don’t want it to work well for you, you drama queen.” Merlin was tired, hyped on adrenaline from the action movie and generally itching for a fight. He could certainly admit to picking it, but for once he wished it would go another way. “It’s not my fault you can’t reconcile the fact that big, buff, footie-playing, opera-hating blokes can be gay. You are, alright? Unless it’s been someone else’s dick in my arse? ”

Arthur eyed him irritably. “It better not have been.”

It was more than he usually got out of Arthur during these more-frequent arguments, but it still wasn’t what he was looking for. “Bloody hell, Arthur. That’s the whole problem.” He didn’t want to go, he really didn’t. They were good together. “How long am I supposed to keep this up, huh? How many men do I have to reject, how many first dates do I have to go on with blokes who’d like to hold my hand and kiss me in front of everyone? How long do I have to be ‘poor Merlin’ to all our friends just because I’m a great shag but not good enough for the great, flaming, Arthur Pendragon?!”

Arthur, to his credit, looked like he was going to be sick. “I don’t know,” he said, quietly. “I don’t know, Merlin. I just don’t want to lose you.”

“Yeah, well, you won’t really, will you? Because if we suddenly stopped being *friends* then everyone would wonder what happened. And then we might have to tell them about *us*. ” Merlin didn’t even try to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “But that’s all we are, Arthur. Friends. Best mates with benefits. Except they’re not, really. Not anymore.” Merlin lingered, just a moment, but Arthur didn’t say anything. He didn’t expect him to. He grabbed his jacket tighter and let himself out. Despite his best efforts, he could feel the tears starting to slide down his cheeks and thanked whoever was in control of his miserable life that at least he was alone on the lift.  
*************

Thankfully, he picked a perfectly timed day to break-up with Arthur and it was a full week until he saw him again. It didn’t dull the pain entirely, but at least he’d been able to mope in peace. He knew calling Gwen or Lance was out-of-the-question, so he had taken to the internet. Early in his relationship with Arthur he had talked about it on his anonymous blog and it was comforting to have complete strangers to complain to. They were supportive and backed-up his decision to dump ‘the effing idiot who clearly couldn’t appreciate what he had’. Thankfully, however, most everyone steered clear of stating outright that’s what he got for agreeing to be his best friend’s secret lover. Merlin knew he was a glutton for punishment and tact dictated directly after the break-up might not be the best time to bring it up. He deleted the few comments that dared to approach the subject.

“Merlin!” Gwen let go of Lance’s hand and jogged-over to hug him in greeting. They were in their normal seats for Arthur’s weekly football game. He had been on the field for a while practicing and Merlin tried his best not to show his reaction to the others. Arthur, damn him, looked *gorgeous*. It didn’t matter if he was already showing the effects of running-around in the warm weather. Sweat colored the top of his jersey and his hair stuck to his forehead and he still looked utterly shaggable. Merlin swallowed against the flood of tears that threatened to come pouring out and excused himself from his friends to use the loo. After a couple deep breaths and some cold water, Merlin decided he could handle this. After all, it wasn’t just Arthur out on the field, right? He would just find another of his teammates to focus on, instead. That way he could still watch the game and root for the right team. Easy.

Merlin settled on Ryan, who was the newest member of the team and therefore someone his brain didn’t associate as much with Arthur as any of the others. He followed his form across the field as he did a respectable job of defense for the team. Arthur scored a goal and Merlin forgot his self-imposed exile for a moment, cheering along with everyone else. It stabbed like a pain in his heart, though, when Arthur looked up toward the stands, and then quickly away. Merlin just knew it was because of him. After that, it became increasingly hard to focus on the game, at all. He knew he was being childish and probably should have stayed-home for both their sakes. Thing was, in all his years of knowing Arthur, he’d missed a game once. Not because he was a fan; these were the only games he ever attended. Because he was Arthur’s best friend and only being at hospital with his mum had kept him from Arthur’s side.

God, he really was the pathetic sort.

When it was all over, Arthur’s team won, but just barely. (1-0) Arthur’s lone goal was the reason they won, however, so he was definitely the hero of the hour. Per their usual routine, Gwen and Lance headed down to the sidelines, waiting for Arthur. Merlin followed a bit behind, hoping his distinct lack of reaction to the victory wouldn’t cause any trouble with his friends. He just wanted to give his congratulations and then beat a hasty exit. He’d think of something brilliant. He’d been doing it for two fucking years.

“Hey.” It was low-key and had a distinctly American accent, which made Merlin turn-around. It was Ryan – the guy he’d spent a considerable amount of the match staring at. Oh.

“Hey.” Merlin gave him a smile and stuck out his hand. “I’m Merlin. Merlin Emrys.” He swallowed the near-automatic ‘Arthur’s friend’ and felt a bit proud of himself.

“Good to meet you.” Ryan had a nice smile, Merlin thought. Genuine. “You’re Arthur’s friend, right?”

Merlin hoped the sudden bout of nausea he felt didn’t show on his face too badly. “Yeah”, he croaked. “We’ve known each other awhile.”  
Ryan didn’t seem to notice his discomfort, or else didn’t say anything about it. “So, you’re going to come to the pub with us then?”

Arthur chose that moment to acknowledge Merlin – probably because he noticed Merlin wasn’t acknowledging ‘him’. Ass. He came over and put his arm around him, casual. Like a friend would. “So, aren’t you going to congratulate me, Merlin?” His tone was light and teasing, and the rattling hug genuine if not over-done, but Merlin could see the uneasiness in his eyes. He found he rather liked seeing it and maybe that could explain what came over him next.

“Congratulations, Arthur.” Merlin said, stepping out of his embrace. “Congratulations to you, too, Ryan. That was a great bit of defending you did so that Arthur’s *one goal* could make the difference.” Merlin said, meanly, and had to fight extra-hard to keep the smirk off his face at the look Arthur gave him. Ryan, for his part, took it as two old friends teasing.

“Yeah, I had fun. I’m just glad to have gotten a spot on the team, you know? I wasn’t sure coming over here I’d be accepted.”

“Yeah, I noticed the accent, but I didn’t want to pry. American, right?” Oh, gods, thought Merlin – I’m *flirting* with him. He snuck a look at Arthur and the feral look he was giving him just egged him on further.

“Yeah, I transferred for a year. Dad thought it would do me good to get some ‘international experience’.” Ryan’s air-quotes told a great deal about what he truly thought of the idea and Merlin had to laugh. “Well,” Merlin indicated the field, “at least it’s not all bad.”

“No, it’s not. It’s actually quite a bit better than I thought it’d be.” Merlin couldn’t help but notice the way Ryan looked him over and felt a flush creep up his neck. It had been quite a while since someone besides Arthur had caused him to react like that. Of course, for once in the entire week since the break-up he managed to forget about Arthur – so when his arm was grabbed and he was forcibly dragged-away he shot an angry “Tosser!” as Arthur manhandled him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Arthur hissed. Merlin had certainly seen him angry in all the years they’d known each other, but this was a different kind of angry Merlin wasn’t sure he’d seen before. It was more raw – wounded. Merlin felt just a little bit guilty.

“Making friends, Arthur. You always said you wished I was more involved with your footie mates, yeah?”

“That wasn’t the kind of *involved* I meant,” he practically growled. “You might as well be bloody drooling over him!”

“And so what if I am?!” Merlin couldn’t help but let his voice rise a bit. All the tension, pain and hurt of the last week crashing back down on him. “It’s not like you have any bleedin’ right to tell me what I can do with my life!”

“Merlin, quiet down.” Arthur had turned from angry to that sort of calm that comes on when you’re dealing with shit you don’t want to be dealing with. It should have been a warning, but Merlin was beyond worked-up and he just. Didn’t. Care.

“I will not be quiet, Arthur! Sod, off, alright?! You had your chance! Two bloody years of this shit, Arthur. Two bloody years of being your - your dirty little secret. You don’t want anyone to know and yet here you are, practically marking your territory just because one of your teammates is talking to me? Fuck you, Arthur. Or rather, not again.” Merlin realized he was shouting but he had ceased to care. “I am sick and tired of being your closeted gay lover!”

Arthur’s fist came straight at him, hitting him in the nose and sending Merlin staggering backward.  
“You Ass!” Merlin’s fist swung a wide arch at his head, missing spectacularly, but he didn’t get a second chance as several of his team members grabbed Arthur, pulling him away. Gwen and Lance rushed to Merlin’s side, Gwen grabbing some tissues out of her purse and Lance stripping his shirt off to use. The pain bloomed as he put his hand to his nose in shock, only to have it come away covered in warm blood. Merlin remembered having nosebleeds as a child, but this was… this was different.

Arthur hit him. He actually *hit* him. Merlin looked up at Arthur, then, still being held back by his teammates. Thankfully, they pulled him away before he could punch Merlin again, even though the look of shock and hurt he saw on Arthur’s face made Merlin at least hope he wouldn’t have.

 

Later, Merlin realized, he should have seen it coming. It’s not like Arthur was known for his reserve any more than Merlin was known for outbursts such as he’d had earlier. But he well and truly was not prepared for Arthur’s reaction.

The same forces that left him alone on the lift after breaking-up with Arthur were obviously still watching over him because he got seen almost immediately at the emergency department. It was painful as hell having his nose examined, but the nurse was very reassuring that it wasn’t actually broken and should heal fine. If it hadn’t hurt so damn bad to just breathe, Merlin would have laughed. At least something Arthur had done to him would heal well.

“How are you feeling?” Gwen came in slowly, clutching her purse and looking as if she either didn’t think she’d be welcome, or she didn’t really want to be there. He imagined she was mad at him, and he supposed he deserved it somewhat. She had been his closest friend besides Arthur, and for almost as long.

“I’m sorry.” It hurt to talk, so Merlin figured he ought to get the most important stuff out of the way, first. “Arthur’s idea, you know? Bleedin’ idiot.”

Gwen just came over and hugged him in response. He supposed there was nothing else to really say. They had laid it all out on the field, in front of a dozen or so witnesses. After a moment, Lance came in and just inclined his head toward Merlin in silent acknowledgement. ‘I’m here with you’ is how Merlin chose to read it. The pat to his arm before he rubbed his girlfriend’s back made Merlin a bit surer of his assumption and he gave Lance a weak smile.

He noticed that Arthur was most obviously absent.

They stayed with him through the endless waiting for paperwork to be filed and follow-up appointments to be made. Armed with a slip of instructions on how to care for his nose and what over-the-counter medicines to take, Merlin let Gwen lead him to her car. They drove back to the field, much to Merlin’s annoyance, but he knew he didn’t want to leave his own car there overnight. Lance drove his car back to his flat and he rode with Gwen. Mercifully, she hadn’t tried to have a conversation with him since he made the comment in the hospital, although he’d seen her speaking animatedly with Lance a few times. He would wonder if he had cause to worry about that after he got some much-needed sleep. If someone would have told him how draining breakups were, he might have thought better of it. He giggled out-loud to himself, and Gwen shot him a worried look. “Sorry, just thinking,” he apologized. He didn’t want to add ‘crazy’ to the laundry-list of afflictions his friends must already be assigning him.

Masochistic. Self-effacing. Lovesick.

The worst part was, in Merlin’s opinion, he would do it again. At least, he thought he would. He’d spent a week asking himself if Arthur was worth it. Was worth the two years he’d hidden such a large part of his life from almost everyone that mattered.

Even after getting punched he wasn’t able to say ‘no’.

**********

He didn’t see Arthur for almost two weeks. He went to work, hung with Gwen and Lance at their café – all the things he always did. His life seemed hollow, though. Incomplete.

He wished it were different.

Even after all they’d been through, seeing him again gave Merlin a jolt he hadn’t been expecting. But when he came down to ‘their’ café for lunch one day – there Arthur was. Sitting alone at the usual table.

“How’s your nose?” It was such an innocuous question. But concerned – like he wasn’t the git who punched it in the first place.

“It’s much better.” Merlin figured he could play the same game. If Arthur wanted to go with ‘casual friends’ who was he to argue?

“I’m sorry.” Merlin hadn’t been expecting that so quickly. He figured Arthur would play-it-out a bit more.

“Yeah? Well. I outed you against your will, you punched me in the face; I figure we’re probably even.”

“I don’t deserve for you to forgive me, Merlin. I was a royal prat.”

“Well, you said it, not me.” Merlin smirked at that, and when he glanced sideways he caught Arthur grinning, too.

“What are we going to do, now?” The smile faded and Arthur’s look turned as lost as Merlin had ever seen him.

Merlin took a deep breath. “It’s not what are *we* going to do, Arthur.” He looked him dead in the eyes to make sure he understood. “The question is; what are *you* going to do?”

“I dunno. Start over?” Arthur couldn’t look at him and fidgeted with his sleeves for lack of anything else to do with his hands.

“Start over.” Merlin just had to repeat it for dramatic effect, he supposed. “I don’t think we can go back.”

“Not, go back – not entirely. Just, you know. Start over. Do something new.” Arthur had the decency to look at him, then, and the raw emotion he saw damn near took his breath away.

“Like, go on a date? A real one?” Merlin was pretty sure where he was going with this, but he still needed Arthur to say it.

“Yeah. A proper date. With hand-holding and stuff.” Arthur looked down at his lap and blushed. Merlin figured one step at-at-a-time was going to be the rule from now on. But, at least it was a different set of rules then before.

“Are you sure you can handle that? Everyone will *know*.” Merlin was being a bit of an ass, he supposed, but given the hell Arthur had put him through the last couple of years he was due, in his opinion.

“I think after your outburst on the field, that’s not an issue anymore, mate.”

“True.” Merlin couldn’t help but do a bit of an internal victory dance at that. Who knew getting punched in the nose would end-up being so worth it? “But are you *alright* with it? I mean, everyone knows, now. About you. About us.”

“I hate to say it, because I’ll probably never live it down, but… you were right.”

Merlin has to widen his eyes at that. “Right about *what*?!”

“I might have been a slight bit of a ‘drama queen’ where my friends and teammates were concerned.”

“Oh. So, you mean you didn’t get beaten to a bloody pulp after being outed, then?”

“Well, I might’ve gotten beaten to a bloody pulp had I actually hit you more than once.” Arthur winced at the memory and Merlin reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you ever going to learn to listen to me?” He smiled at Arthur, hoping to take some of the sting out of his words.

“Maybe.”

Merlin laughed. “I suppose that’s about all I can expect from you, eh?”

“You know me too well, Merlin.”

“I know you the best, Arthur.” Merlin scooted his chair closer to him, testing the resolve Arthur showed. Making sure he was truly ready to be out. “Intimately.”

Their kiss was chaste in comparison to others they’d shared, but Merlin wouldn’t trade it in for the world. It was the first one he’d shared with Arthur beyond the walls of their flats. The first time the world-at-large saw Arthur and Merlin as lovers.

“I love you, you prat.” Merlin spoke as they broke the kiss, smiling wide at Arthur.

“Why I’ll probably never know,” Arthur chided. “Idiot.”

“Yes, Arthur,” Merlin chuckled. “You are an idiot.” He kissed him again, quickly, just to make sure it wasn’t a dream. “And I love you, anyway.”


End file.
